The Inquisitor of Inquisitors
by krumblebumble
Summary: After a tragic event during Dolores Umbridge’s days at Hogwarts, she places her trust in a man who says he will help her overcome the demons of her past and find her place in life. She realizes soon however, that this was the ultimate mistake.
1. Black Hearted Retribution

I On a clean, crisp night in mid-July, as crickets chirped and toads croaked, Dolores Umbridge set out into the night. She was carrying nothing but her sleek black handbag, and the craving for bittersweet revenge.  
  
She had been thwarted; her dreams shattered, goals leveled to the ground, she was nothing but a lowly, unemployed unknown. She had been well on her way to becoming the next Minister of Magic, and then she would have had the power to make it all come true. /I  
  
It had started for her as a child. Everyday she dreaded going to school, because she was constantly ridiculed. She was short, fat, and cared for nothing but flourishing flowers and knitting. Others saw her as another item to ridicule. As her first few years past, she collected a single, solitary friend who was a small, bespecled girl named Myrtle.  
  
Although Myrtle was only a first year, she had come from nearly the same background as Dolores. Both were muggle-born and shared a love for a sleek, attractive fifth year by the name of Tom Riddle. But both of them were far to fearful of approaching him, for both knew he only associated with a small group of pureblood Slytherins. So, Dolores simply watched from afar. In fact, it became such an obsession for her, that etched his name into the back of her hand using her favorite pen.  
  
As her fourth year at Hogwarts dawned, something terrible happened though.  
  
It was her first true sensation of pain; a pain so unfathomable that it twisted her heart into something wretched and decaying. It was an agony greater than any other before. Her only friend Myrtle was killed.  
  
As her abnormal face loomed in the dying candlelight that night as Myrtle's dead body slowly passed by, she made a solemn promise; she would kill the one who took away her best friend, if it was the last thing she did. 


	2. Mold On A Brilliant Foundation

Chapter Two:  
  
The large, stormy castle finally became home to the short, squat teenager, and she buried herself in her studies, trying to ease the pain that had arrived so prematurely in her life. As the years passed, each one becoming seemingly shorter and short, she decided that she would set her ambitions high and seek revenge on all those who had made her life a living hell.  
  
She went from a bullied underdog to the top dog; students began to fear her strict, harsh ways. Her anger towards the world radiated in every word she spoke, although she still remained in some eerie, mysterious way, the sweet girl she once was. After becoming prefect for Ravenclaw house in her fifth year, she made the decision that would change her life forever.  
  
Although she had never gotten over her near obsession over Tom, she had begun to concentrate on her studies to the point where he was driven away from her piercing glare, and tossed aside for casual longings. But, as she neared the end of her fifth year, and he, his seventh, for the first time he acknowledged her one day, as she sat in the library, deeply immersed in a thick, tedious book unaware of his presence.  
  
"What's that you're reading?" he inquired, as Dolores looked up at him startled.  
  
" I'm. I'm." she stuttered. This was finally her chance. "He's actually acknowledging he fact that I exist!" she though. "It's a book called "Prefects Who Gained Power," she stuttered.  
  
Tom looked at her with even more interest, laying his schoolbook aside and surveying her. His crisp, sharp blue eyes seemed to be penetrating her (very very thick) outer layer, as if he were reading her mind. Dolores suddenly felt very uncomfortable plopped down in the seat, with her bright yellow hair ribbon, and tidy, pink cardigan.  
  
"Is it good?" Tom asked, still not taking his eyes off of her.  
  
"Oh yes, very good. I'm hoping to get into the Ministry after I leave Hogwarts, so I figured it would be a good read," she replied, losing a bit of her uneasiness. After pausing, she continued, "I find the ministry very flawed."  
  
A triumphant look appeared on Tom's face and a smile (a rather chilling one at that) pursed his cold lips, and he appeared devious and paler than Dolores had ever seen him before.  
  
"I agree." He said slowly. "The ministry has allowed mold to build upon its brilliant foundation."  
  
"Quite so," Dolores agreed.  
  
And from that day on, Dolores Umbridge and Tom Riddle were friends. She could feel the power radiating from him; she knew that only if should continued to be friends with him, that he could be her ride to the top, and when she was at the top, she could avenge the death of her best friend and live in peace, knowing she had made something of her accursed life.  
  
As her sixth year dawned, Tom was gone, or so it seemed. She had wondered where her new friend had gone, because now things were back to usual again; there was no one to chat idly with about political philosophy, or no one to tell her secrets and aspirations to. It was back to being pink, dumpy, hideous Dolores, or so it seemed.  
  
On a warm night in September, an owl was perched upon her dormitory door as she walked in from a hard day's batch of classes. Noticing the owl, she peered to see who it was addressed to and smiled. It was to her! Nobody ever wrote to her unless it was her parents, asking her how school was going. "Who would write to me?" she thought.  
  
Dolores hastily opened the letter, tearing through the paper in a most untidy way. She began reading. I Dolores,  
  
This is Tom. I hope I find you well. Right now, I'm working for the ministry in the Department of Mysteries and I must say, I am enjoying myself.  
The ministry has been pleased with my work and is allowing me to form a group known as The Death Eaters. I'm very excited about the group, because hopefully we can help bring about changes to the ministry and further look into the secrets of the vast magical world.  
One day, I hope that I can aid you in your political ambitions, but for now, I would like you to join me in this elite group. Hopefully, we can find the answers to why poor Myrtle was killed, and the solution to death, after all, the Department of Mysteries holds many answers. Join me soon, and together I think we can do extraordinary things. Also, please refer to me as Lord Voldemort from now on, as it is the name in which I have chosen to lead you with. Hoping to see you soon,  
  
Lord Voldemort /I  
  
A wide, toadlike grin was inevitable as Dolores began jumping up and down, reading her letter over and over again. This was her chance. She finally sat down that night, and composed a reply to her old friend. "My Lord," she though admiringly as she watched her tawny owl flutter into the dim night sky.  
  
That summer, she would be joining Lord Voldemort, in more ways than she would have ever imagined, and that night, as she lay in her four-poster bed starting at the high stone ceiling, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness, as if this was more than she bargained for. "But", she though, "I can not disappoint my Lord," although in the end, that's precisely what she would end up doing. 


	3. Life and Death

(This story should have around 14 chapters when finished. So please read and review and tell me what you think! By the way, none of these people are mine, they're JK Rowling's.)  
  
Chapter Three  
  
"I'm going to need you to travel by Floo Powder to meet with us as soon as term ends," Lord Voldemort wrote in a letter to Dolores as her sixth year ended.  
  
That year, she had continued to stay in close touch with her powerful ally, making sure that she heard from him or he heard from her at least once a week. And as the year slowly began to draw to a close, she got a vague, apprehensive feeling of what might be going on. In his letters, Tom always mention one particular teacher as a threat; somebody who could be the "undoing of our mighty plan", Tom explained. "You must not let Dumbledore know what you are doing," he told her soon after Christmas. "Dumbledore is working against us, and soon we will have to remove him, or we will have a much harder time making any progress."  
  
Dumbledore, the old wizard who taught Transfiguration was said to be the next headmaster of Hogwarts. He was tall, and has hair that was slowly turning from a flaming auburn to wispy silver. Although Dolores had never exactly disliked Dumbledore, so had always disapproved of his wild, eccentric ways. She was n't very good at Transfiguration either, as she was mortally terrified of nearly every animal she had ever been asked to work with.  
  
Before she knew it, exams were over, and everybody was packing to go home. A hodgepodge of feelings and emotions filled Dolores, and the day after term ended, she prepared to meet with her Lord. Dolores hadn't the slightest clue where she would be meeting the tall, pale man, only that it was a place registered as "The Mortir House."  
  
She would be leaving her possessions at Hogwarts that summer, and as she explained to her parents, "I don't expect to be home for a few more weeks, because I'm going to spend some time with a good friend." Her parents of course were thrilled; because it was to there knowledge that there daughter had no friends.  
  
* * *  
  
Dolores stepped into the grate of the fireplace of a small stone cottage near the Forbidden Forest (just to make sure Dumbledore wasn't watching!). Although it had been empty during Dolores's first few years at Hogwarts, it was widely rumored that this was where Hagrid (the boy who was caught breeding some hideous spider in the kitchen cupboard during the attacks), was living there now.  
  
Dolores, (who fit easily in the entire structure), clutched her small bag of the green powder in her stubby, many ringed fingers and slowly drew out a small amount. Then, closing her eyes, she threw it into the air and screamed, "The Mortir House", in the sweetest, most girly way possible.  
  
Suddenly she felt a jerk somewhere behind her navel and began to soar into a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds, her feet leaving the rough cottage floor in soaring into infinity. And as soon as it began, she felt her feet slam into a cold, stone floor, signaling her arrival at the secret locale.  
  
Slowly her eyes adjusted to the cold, damp room she had arrived in. She could hear a gentle trickle of water somewhere above her, and decided that she must have arrived in the basement of the building. Slowly she began walking around the room, looking for a flight of steps that might lead upstairs, but there was none. "Where am I," she muttered to herself.  
  
"Hello," echoed a cold, harsh voice.  
  
Dolores turned around to see who it could be, startled from the sudden outburst of sound in the seemingly empty room.  
  
It was Voldemort, but he looked different. His normal Hogwarts robes had been replaced by a stern black robe which was buttoned all the way to his chin. He seemed taller, even more powerful than ever. His eyes were narrower and he was paler than ever. Any lusting she had contained for him before suddenly evaporated at this moment. She hated to admit it, but he seemed evil.  
  
"He- Hello," she replied, her eyes growing luminous and wide. Unless she was very much mistaken, his own misty blue eyes were no longer the same romantic, dreamy color they had been before, but an ugly scarlet red. He seemed so much older than eighteen.  
  
"I'm so glad you could come here," he said, taking no notice of her uneasiness. "Come with me," he continued, examining her more closely than ever. "I'd like you to meet some of my friends."  
  
Dolores slowly followed him, unsure of what to do. There was nowhere for her to go. "I'll just have to trust him," she thought, "and then maybe I can get away as soon as I can."  
  
"Here." Voldemort said harshly, passing her a misty blue block. "When I say three, I want you to touch this to my robes," he continued, grabbing a handful of the black robes that were skirting the ground.  
  
"One - two - THREE!" he screamed.  
  
Dolores then grabbed the man's robes and fell to the ground, as if some force were pushing her down. But she was sinking much lower than that. She could feel her body sinking through the floor, into the cold brick, and suddenly she felt as if she had died.  
  
The air around became even colder, and darkness surrounded her. She was falling through space and time, feeling as if she would never return and that there was no hope. She couldn't think, but could only remain in an overwhelming ignorance of what was happening.  
  
Slowly however, light returned, and a dim building appeared on the horizon of a magnificent sunset. The air was still cold however, and she still felt as if an unexplainable doom was awaiting her, and she would never be happy again.  
  
Suddenly she heard the high-pitched, cold voice of Lord Voldemort again, "and death is where you shall remain," and the sun disappeared below the horizon and she saw no more. 


End file.
